Finding the Good in Goodbye
by J0
Summary: Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.
1. Letter

**Chapter One**  
**The Letter**

**Why does it take a minute to say hello and forever to say goodbye?**  
- **Author Unknown**

_Elliot Stabler  
4196 Ketcham Street  
Elmhurst, NY 11373  
May 25, 2007_

_Donald Cragen  
Captain, Manhattan Special Victims Unit  
New York City Police Department  
133 East 59th Street  
New York, NY 10022_

_Dear Captain Cragen:_

_My thirteen years with the Special Victims Unit have been the most challenging and rewarding of my career, and I regret having to make this difficult announcement._

_Due to personal and family circumstances, I feel compelled at this time to explore alternative employment possibilities and must reluctantly resign from my position as a detective in the SVU, effective immediately._

_Both you and my fellow detectives have taught me a lot, and I will forever be grateful for the opportunities I have had to grow as a professional and as a human being. What's more, I've come to regard those with whom I work most closely as a second family. I will truly be sorry to go._

_I hope you can understand my decision to leave the SVU and the NYPD at this time._

_Sincerely,_

_  
Elliot M. Stabler  
Detective, Manhattan SVU_


	2. Explanation

**Chapter Two**  
**Explanation**

**The world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be the beginning. **  
**- Ivy Baker Priest**

"What the hell is this?" Cragen asked in shock after nearly a minute of silence. He folded the letter and glared at his detective.

"It's my resignation," Elliot said in a strained voice.

"I can see that, goddamnit, but why? What the hell happened? Why didn't you talk to me?" Even his anger couldn't hide his regret, grief, and confusion. He was losing the best cop he'd ever known, and he had no idea why. He felt like he'd been hit with a sack full of bricks.

"I'm glad you asked, Cap, because I want to tell you," Elliot began, and he paused a moment because his voice was shaking. He hadn't expected this to be a cake walk, but he hadn't realized until now just how painful it would be. "I just didn't put it in the letter because I didn't figure it was anybody's business except for the people I chose to tell."

Upon hearing the tremor in Elliot's voice, Cragen felt his anger flush away. "Talk to me, Elliot," he said gently. "I'll do whatever I can to fix it."

Elliot shook his head. "There's nothing wrong," he said. "There's nothing to fix. It's just something I have to do."

Don frowned slightly and nodded. Something told him there was no changing the other man's mind. "Can you tell me why?"

Elliot nodded. "About a year and a half ago, maybe two weeks before I was shot at the courthouse, Kathy's lawyer sent me divorce papers. I never signed them. She went to court to have the judge supersede my signature and declare the divorce final without my consent."

"I didn't know that," Don said sympathetically.

"I didn't want you to," Elliot told him. "I took a personal day and went to court to challenge the motion. I told the judge about how I was seeing Rebecca Hendrix and that I wasn't the same person I was when Kathy left me. I asked him and Kathy to give me another chance. The judge ordered six weeks of marriage counseling, and when we went back to court, Kathy withdrew her petition.

"We've been going to counseling twice a week since then," he continued, "and last night, without really meaning to, Kathy told me that the only thing left standing between me and my family is this job."

When Don frowned, he rushed to explain, "It wasn't an ultimatum. She wasn't threatening or manipulating me. She never even actually mentioned the job. She was just telling me what she and the kids needed, and I finally realized that I can't be that guy and do this job anymore. There's not enough of me for both."

"I could partner you with Munch or Fin," Don suggested carefully.

Elliot frowned in confusion and then laughed when he realized what the captain was probably thinking.

"This is _not_ about Olivia," he said. "It's about me being a husband and a father and coming here and seeing what I do and then going home and not having any part of myself left for my family that isn't disgusted with human perversity, pissed off that I can't do more to change it, or . . .or scared to death that . . . that one day my wife or one of my kids is going to be . . . in a file on some detective's desk."

Elliot had begun to choke up while he was speaking, and Don waited patiently until he caught his breath and dabbed the moisture from his eyes.

"Why . . ." The captain found that he had to clear a lump from his own throat before he could speak. "Why not apply for a transfer to robbery, homicide, or the major case squad?"

He shook his head. "I've done homicide, there's nothing new for me there, and robbery, well, I don't want to spend the rest of my career running a glorified lost and found."

"And major cases?"

Elliot grinned. "How long do you think I would last before I slugged Goren or Logan?"

Don laughed. "You have a point there."

Elliot shook his head. "No, special victims is more than a job for me. It's . . . one of the things I was put here to do. We save people, Cap. We take kids out of bad homes and we give women the strength to face their attackers and name them for what they are. We don't usually get to see the final results of our work, but when we get the guy, at least we know we've given the victim a chance to get back some of what they lost. I know the work will never be done, but after thirteen and a half years, I think I've done more than my share."

"Of course, you have," Don agreed, "and I know this was a difficult decision for you . . ."

Elliot shook his head in disagreement. "I've known for years that it would come to this," he said. "Being a husband and a father is the other thing I was put here to do, and I haven't done my part in that for a while. When I finally accepted that it had to be the job or my family, it was an easy choice, Don, painful, but probably the easiest decision I've ever had to make."

Cragen nodded, understanding what his detective was saying. Looking out the window into the squad room, he saw Olivia with her arms wrapped around herself staring off into space and rocking in her chair. "Benson knows?"

Elliot nodded. "She proofread the letter for me. I wouldn't want to leave on a typo."

Don grinned, "No, I suppose not, but she forgot to have you sign it."

He passed the paper over to Elliot and noted that the detective took a pen out of his coat pocket and signed his name without hesitation. He knew now that there was no changing his friend's mind.

"Have you told Munch and Fin?" he asked as Elliot handed the letter back to him.

Looking sheepish, Elliot replied, "I was kind of hoping I could wait in here until they both came in. I don't know if I can handle saying goodbye twice."

Don nodded. "Ok."

There was a companionable silence for a few minutes as each of the men thought back over the years they had worked together. They had both cherished their relationship and would treasure the memories, good and bad alike.

Don cleared his throat. "There's going to be some paperwork for you to sign. I assume you want it sent to your house?"

Elliot thought a minute before saying, "Nah. Give me a call when it comes to you, it'll give me an excuse to come in and say hello."

Don nodded. "All right, but as long as I'm in charge around here, you don't need an excuse."

Elliot grinned. "Thanks, Cap."

"Have you given any thought to what you're going to do next? You're a young man to be retiring."

Elliot shrugged. "I'm pretty competent around the house, and I've built up a decent collection of tools over the years. I could start a handyman business. There's always a need for qualified, bonded security guards, and I've heard Brinks is hiring armored car drivers. Maybe I'll go back to school. I figure I'm smart enough to learn how to do anything I want. When I was a kid, I wanted to be an institutional architect and design hospitals, schools, and government facilities, stuff like that. Maybe the next generation of cops will be working out of a building with my name on it.

"Hell, Kathy's making decent money and the mortgage is finally paid. I could just hang around the house and play Mister Mom until the twins go off to college, and maybe by then Maureen will have made me a grandpa. In some ways, I feel like I'm nineteen years old again. I'm starting over."

"I almost envy you," Don said. As painful as it might have been for him to decide to leave, the prospect of stepping out into the world anew clearly agreed with him. He hadn't seen his friend this excited about anything since the twins started school.

Elliot looked out the window into the squad room. Fin was sitting at his desk frowning at the packing carton that was sitting on Elliot's blotter. Munch was still at the coat rack and probably hadn't noticed it yet.

"Well, the guys are here," he said to his boss.

"You want me to go out with you?"

After a brief hesitation, Elliot nodded. "It might be easier if they see that we're still on good terms and you're ok with this," he said. When Cragen didn't speak, he asked, "You are ok with this, aren't you?"

"Not really," Don answered honestly, "but we are on good terms. I just . . . I've always considered you a friend, Elliot, and I hate to see you go."

"I know that, Don, and I appreciate it, but I have to be honest and tell you, I think this is the best thing I have done since marrying Kathy in the first place."

Cragen smiled. "I think you're right, but that still doesn't make me happy to lose you."

Elliot laughed. "When you realize that the new guy isn't half the pain in the ass I've been, you'll wonder why in the hell you didn't fire me sooner."

Sharing the joke because laughing was less painful than crying, Don said, "You're probably right."

"I know I am." Elliot looked out the window again. Munch was at his desk now and he and Fin were talking and casting dubious looks at the packing carton on the empty desk. Jerking his head in the direction of the squad room, he said, "Let's get this over with."

* * *

**Author's note:** Ninety-three hits and only two reviews? Come on, people, give me some feedback! Love it or hate it? Confused by it? I want to know what you think!

For those of you who read the original summary, the quote is by the 19th century English author George Eliot, also known as Mary Ann Evans. Her most famous work is probably Silas Marner because so many children have read it in high school. According to the Wikipedia article about her, "She used a male pen name, she said, to ensure that her works were taken seriously." The quote in the summary is what the story is about. You don't know how much you love someone until they are gone. Using the name George Eliot was _never_ meant to imply that it was George/Elliot slash. Sorry for all the confusion.


	3. Farewell

**Chapter Three**  
**Farewell**

**How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard. **  
**- Carol Sobieski & Thomas Meehan, _Annie_**

Munch and Fin looked questioningly at the captain and Elliot as they came from the office into the squad room. Olivia continued to stare ahead at nothing. Her eyes were already bright with unshed tears.

Don cleared his throat and said, "I guess you have already figured out that Elliot has an announcement to make. I want you to know that, while I am not happy about how his decision affects me personally, he has my complete support, and I hope he will get the same from each of you."

The room was quiet for a moment, and then Don turned to his former detective and said, "Elliot?"

Elliot stepped forward and took a deep breath. He was surprised to realize that his legs were shaking. When he spoke, it was a struggle to keep his voice firm and even.

Glancing at the packing carton on his desk, he said, "I suppose you have already figured out that I'm through here."

"What?"

"Why?"

Despite the obvious nature of the statement, both Munch and Fin exclaimed in surprise. Elliot ignored their questions, knowing that what he had to say would answer them.

"I know it seems like a sudden decision, but I think you know enough about my life to realize that it's been a good three or four years in coming."

He looked at each of them in turn and wished that Olivia would meet his gaze.

"I am a lucky man, a better man, for having known each of you, and I will always treasure our friendship. I plan to keep in touch, and I hope, if you're ever in Elmhurst, that you'll drop by. My door is always open to you guys."

The stunned silence still echoed in his ears. He offered Cragen his hand first, out of respect.

"Cap. I'll see you around."

Don shook his hand, squeezed firmly, and cupped his elbow with his left hand. His affection for the departing detective was obvious in the gesture. "It's been a pleasure, Elliot. Take care."

Munch was closest, so he turned to him next. "John, it was great working with you, conspiracy theories and all. Don't be a stranger, at least not any stranger than you already are."

Munch shook his hand warmly. "Very damned funny, Stabler. So, what's next?"

"Well, from here, I'm going to my mother-in-law's house to help Kathy and the kids pack. They're coming home. After that, who knows?"

As his face crinkled into a grin of pleasure for his friend, the tears finally squeezed from John's eyes. "That's good news," he said. "Damn, that's good news. Good for you."

Nodding, Elliot could only say, "Thanks."

Turning again, he extended his hand and said, "Fin."

Fin looked at his hand in disdain. "The hell with that!" he said and surprised them all by pulling Elliot into a bear hug.

"You're doing the right thing," he whispered into his friend's ear. "I wish I had been smart enough to quit when my kid was still a kid. You'll never regret it."

Elliot was so stunned and so deeply moved by the other detective's admission that he had to take a moment and just breathe before he could speak. Finally, he stepped back but maintained the contact with a hand on the other man's shoulder.

"Thanks, man. That means a lot coming from you."

Fin just nodded, and then he had to look away.

Finally, he moved between the desks and came to stand beside Olivia. She was still rocking in her seat and looking ahead at nothing.

"Li . . ." His voice fractured and he had to clear his throat and start again. "Olivia?"

She finally faced him with tears streaming down her cheeks, and her shattered look almost broke him. Surging to her feet, she threw herself into his arms and sobbed against his chest, "Don't go. Please don't go. Oh, God, Elliot, please, don't leave me. Don't go."

He held her and rocked her, shushing her softly. "Hey, it's ok," he whispered. "We talked about this last night, remember? I'm not leaving you. You're my best friend. I'd _never_ leave you. I just have to leave the job. Liv, it's all right. It's all right."

The other men watched sympathetically while he kept up his soothing prattle for several minutes. Eventually, she calmed down and caught her breath, but she couldn't stop crying completely.

"I'm sorry," she hiccoughed. "I'm sorry. It's just . . ."

She couldn't finish her thought, but he understood what she was feeling. Pulling her into his arms again, he said compassionately, "I know. I know. Those time when you were reassigned, I thought I was gonna die, but it will get easier. Just give it time, and give the new guy a chance, ok? Like we talked about, right?"

She sniffled loudly and nodded moving out of his embrace. Laughing through her tears, she finally said, "I'm so embarrassed. I didn't want to make a scene."

He gave her one of his little lopsided grins and said, "Why not? I'd be hurt if you didn't."

She laughed again. "Come here, you!" She threw her arms around him once more and whispered for only him to here. "I love you."

"Love you, too," he whispered back.

They had been so close for the nine years they'd been working together that those six words could have set tongues wagging all over the precinct, but the two of them and those closest to them knew it was an expression of deep and abiding friendship, no more, no less.

She brushed away her tears and smiled, saying, "Get out of here. Go get your wife and kids."

As badly as she was hurting, she was genuinely happy for him and she wanted him to know it.

He placed his hands on either side of her face and leaned toward her to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, Liv, for everything."

"You're welcome," she said, her voice husky with barely restrained emotions. "Now go!"

He nodded, and moved around the desk to pick up his box. Looking at each of them affectionately, he cleared his throat and said, "Well, I guess I'll see you around."

As they watched their friend leave, none of them could deny that there was a spring in his step that hadn't been there for years.


	4. Selfish

**Chapter Four**  
**Selfish**

**To die and part is a less evil; but to part and live, there, there is the torment.**  
**-George Lansdowne**

Olivia maintained a strong front until Elliot was out of sight, then she crumpled in on herself. Turning a tear stained face to Cragen, she croaked desperately, "Captain?"

"Go," he told her, his own voice hoarse with more tears wanting to be shed.

She fled the room, running blindly and sobbing like a child who has just been informed of the death of a beloved pet.

Don turned to Fin and Munch. "You two are catching until further notice. Don't hesitate to ask if there is anything you need, got it?"

"Yes, Sir," the detectives responded almost in unison. There didn't seem to be anything more to say. Elliot was gone, and Olivia might as well be, at least for now.

* * *

Olivia hunkered down on the roof, so exhausted by her grieving that she would have fallen asleep in the warm spring sunshine if not for the sniffles that plagued her. When she heard the door creak open she looked up to see her captain staring at her compassionately. 

Don groaned as he sat beside her on the black tar roof and hoped it wouldn't ruin his trousers. "You know, I always knew this day would come, but I still feel totally blindsided. I'm happy for him, though, that Kathy and the kids are moving back home."

Olivia sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand in a most unladylike fashion. "I suppose," she replied noncommittally.

"Olivia, if you want to take the day that would be fine. Everybody knows . . ."

"Do _not_ tell me everybody knows how I feel, Don!" she snapped. "They don't. He was their colleague, your protégé, but he was my _best friend_. I would sooner part with a limb or . . . or my _soul_ than lose him! I feel like I _have_ lost my soul."

"I was going to say everyone knows this is going to be hard for you," he corrected her. She just glared at him and then looked away. "It's not like he's gone forever. You can still see him as often as you want."

"That's not true," she wept, her chin trembling as she tried to speak. "The only thing we ever had in common was this lousy job. Without that, there's no reason . . ."

Her voice broke and she had to breathe before she could finish. "There's no reason for us to get together now. Without this job, I'll never see him again."

"Olivia, you have a similar sense of humor, you like the same music, share the same tastes in movies and friends, and you speak the same language," he told her. "I've seen the two of you hold entire conversations with just a look. You've got a kind of chemistry together that I've never seen between two people before. I guarantee you, any time you reach out to him, he'll be there."

She could think of nothing to say back to him, so staggered across the roof to the safety railing and leaned against it to look down at the city, but she was crying so hard again that she could barely see. She felt a presence when Don came to stand beside her, but she pointedly refused to look at him.

Leaning against the rail and staring out across the rooftops he said disappointedly, "In all the years I've known you, Olivia, I never would have imagined that you could be this selfish."

"I . . . Wha- . . . Selfish!" she sputtered in disbelief. She turned on him, a picture of outrage. "How dare you? How in the hell am _I _being selfish? He's the one who's . . ."

She stopped, not willing to utter the thought that had come into her head.

After a beat, Cragen asked, "What? He's the one who's putting his life before the job? He's the one who's reaching out for a chance at happiness? He's the one who's finally doing something we've all thought about more times than we can count? Maybe you're jealous because he's the only one of us who has something else to turn to."

Don felt his voice tighten up on him at that last thought. The fact was, he also envied Elliot. Once upon a time, he'd had something else as well, but she'd died years ago in a plane crash. Except for Olivia, they had all had something that they had lost along the way. Elliot had been the only one who had managed to recover it.

And now, Olivia had lost Elliot. She had joined the club. She had finally paid the full measure for working in the SVU.

"Olivia, you know what his family means to him, and you should be happy that they're coming home. Instead, you're pissed off at him and feeling sorry for yourself because you'll have to go out of your way to see him. If that isn't selfish, what is it?"

She opened her mouth to argue, but she knew he was right. She took a deep breath, gave him a wobbly smile and asked, "Is that offer for a day off still open?"

"You bet, but call me this evening, would you?"

She nodded. "Ok."

* * *

"Hey, how's it going?" 

"Hi! Great," he told her. "How are you?"

He heard a deep shaky sigh from the other end of the line.

"I fell apart after you left," she admitted.

He could picture her lower lip trembling as she fought for control, and when she spoke again, he could see her face contorted in pain.

"Cragen gave me the day off," she continued. "I went home and bawled like a teenager who's broken up with her boyfriend."

"Sorry about that," he said sincerely.

"Don't be, you're doing the right thing for yourself and your family," she told him. "I want you to know that I'm happy for you."

"Thanks." He could tell she was dying inside, but he didn't know what to say.

"I don't want to lose you," she whispered, not trusting her voice to speak aloud.

"You won't," he swore. "You can call any time, and we can get together as often as you want. Anytime you need me, I'm here for you, Liv. That's what our friendship has always been about, and it always will. You're never going to lose me."

"Promise?"

Her voice sounded so much like a little girl's that he wished he could be there to hold her.

"Promise," he said. "Forever."

Another deep, shuddering sigh, and she asked, "How are Kathy and the kids?"

"Great," he told her. "Better than great. They're fantastic!"

For a moment, he felt a ghost of pain in his chest, a lingering ache to remind him of the heartbreak he had felt when they left.

"It's almost like they never left," he said, trying to convince himself that everything could be as it was before, "we've already had an argument and pouting."

"Really? Over what?" There was a genuine laugh in her voice, and he knew she was going to be ok.

"They wanted to rent _Shrek_. Again. I wanted _Hidalgo_ because I haven't seen it since it first came out and I had to leave on a case before the end. They won. I pouted."

She laughed aloud. "You big dope, of course they won. You're outnumbered four to one."

"Five, actually," he corrected her. "Between the scene where he eats the locust and the one where he has to cut the wooden stake out of the horse's shoulder Kathy just can't cope. She voted for _Shrek_, too."

"Well, you're just gonna have to rent it for yourself and watch it late at night after they have gone to bed," she teased.

"You mean like a skin flick?" he asked. "I don't think so."

"Oh, why not?" There was a quiet moment, and then she asked, "Tell you what, why don't I rent it, and you can come over here to watch it some evening, say in a couple of weeks after you have settled back into the family routine?"

"Ok," he said thoughtfully as he crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator and flipped through the agenda Kathy had already posted there. "Soccer is Tuesday and Thursday, and basketball is Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday. I'd like to keep my weekends open for a while because we really need to make up for lost family time. How about Monday, June 12th?"

"Are you penciling me in on your calendar?" Olivia asked with a laugh.

"No, I'm using ink," he said.

"Are you serious?" Her tone implied that she had thought he was joking.

"It's like I told you before, Liv. You're my best friend. I'll always make time for you."

There was a long silence, and then he heard a sniffle.

"Olivia?"

"Damn you!"

She didn't sound mad or upset, so he asked, "Why? What did I do now?"

"That was so sweet you made me cry again." She went quiet once more, and then, "Elliot?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"Dad! The movie's on!"

"Duty calls," he sighed, and then softly, "You know I love you, right?"

"Yeah. I love you, too."

"Call me tomorrow, if you need to."

"Dad! Hurry up!"

"I will," she said. "Now, go watch _Shrek_ with your kids."

They said their goodbyes, and Olivia settled back against the pillows with a sigh. She really was happy for him and so grateful that he was still going to be there for her. It would be harder without seeing him across the desk from her every day, but she could do it. She would do it, for him, to make him proud of her. He was her best friend and he always would be. There was no way she would sour his happiness by falling down on the job now. Everyone would blame him, and he would blame himself. She would go back to the squad and be the best damned cop anyone had ever seen . . .

She curled up around her pillow and began to shake.

. . . as soon as she could stop crying.


	5. Sacrifice

**Chapter Five**  
**Sacrifice**

**Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need to know of hell. **  
**-Emily Dickinson, "Parting"**

"That was Olivia who called just before the movie, wasn't it?" Kathy asked as she climbed into bed beside her husband for the first time in over two years.

"Yeah." Elliot didn't know what else to say, so he kept quiet waiting for Kathy to speak again.

"I want you to know that I'm not jealous of your friendship with her anymore," Kathy said. "I know how much you care for her, and I know it's totally different from the love you feel for me. I want you two to stay friends, because I can tell how much you need each other."

He nodded. "I appreciate that."

They were silent for a long time. He knew she wanted him to speak, but he just didn't know what to say. He'd been working on that ever since they'd started back to couples counseling, but so many times, he just didn't have the vocabulary to express what he was feeling. His shrink, Rebecca Hendrix, and Father McKay, the priest they saw together twice a week, both said it was because he'd been taught from a young age that it was unmanly to express tender feelings or neediness. Personally, he thought it was much more likely that words were simply inadequate to express his emotions. At least counseling had taught Kathy that she didn't have to compete with Olivia for his affections, so it wasn't a total loss.

"Elliot?"

"Hmm?" He turned toward her voice, and seeing her there beside him pulled him out of his reverie.

"I know it hurt a lot to say goodbye to them, and I'm sorry; but I have to be honest and say that I'm really grateful to you for what you did."

_Case in point_, he thought. "_It hurt a lot" doesn't even begin to describe what this morning was like. It isn't even from the same planet as what I'm feeling now, and if she had any clue what it did to me to walk out of that squad room today, she would sure as hell be more than "really grateful."_

He lowered his gaze to give himself time to think before he responded, and though he wouldn't call it a miracle, there was something divine about the sight that met his eyes. It was so emblematic of everything he had become, everything he had done for the past twenty-odd years.

Shrugging his left shoulder to draw her attention to it, he asked, "Do you remember when I got this tattoo?"

"Yeah, it was just before our wedding, and my mom flipped out about it." She laughed at the memory, but he didn't.

He couldn't look at her and continue talking, so he stared at the crucifix on his arm instead, upside down from his perspective, like Saint Peter, Peter the Rock, the foundation on which the Roman Catholic Church was built. Christ Himself called Peter His rock. God was often called the Rock, and in the parable of the foolish man and the wise man, the wise man built his house upon the Rock and it stood firm. The Bible used rocks a lot as metaphors for strength and stability. Interesting how it was all coming back to him. Stabler, his own name called him the exact opposite of what he had been for so long. His family had provided him stability, not the other way around, which was why he had gone to pieces when they left. He was a walking oxymoron!

And then there was the pain of getting the tattoo. He had been young and romantic and enthralled with the sybolism of it all, but mostly, he just needed the physical pain to help him deal with his emotional hurt. He had always coped better with physical pain than with the emotional variety, so often in his life, when he felt like crying, he would resort to bleeding. Nowadays, he just pounded the shit out of the lockers. Since he didn't user razor blades or burning cigarettes to hurt himself, it looked like a temper tantrum and not even the astute Dr. George Huang could see him for what he was.

Now _that_ was a revelation. He hurt himself. When he was suffering emotionally, he deliberately and intentionally hurt himself. He was a self-injurer, just like thousands of troubled adolescents, over stressed women, and abused victims he worked with every day of his professional life. How had he gone this long without ever realizing it? His next conversation with Dr. Hendrix was going to be _very_ interesting.

He had to stop thinking for a moment, or he would become lost in all the layers of meaning in that tattoo.

"Elliot?" Kathy's tone implied that is was not the first time she had said his name.

He gazed into her eyes for a moment, and it took away his power of speech. So, looking down at his hands folded across his belly, he watched his thumbs twiddle almost as if they had minds of their own, and finally he began to speak softly.

"When I was a kid, I had so many dreams, Kath. Things I never told you about. I wanted to be somebody. I wanted people to know my name. I wanted to have a building or a park named after me. I wanted to _do _something with my life!"

He could hear that his voice had taken on a slightly hysterical cadence, and he stopped himself for a moment.

Self-consciously, he took a deep breath. "Then you got pregnant."

He looked at her and saw the shock on her face. Maybe she wasn't ready for this much honesty, but he really didn't know any other way to tell her what he was feeling. If there were names for his emotions, he'd never heard them.

"I would have married you anyway," he said. "Eventually, but . . ."

When her expression didn't change, he could hold her gaze no longer. Staring back down at his hands, he said, "When I proposed, I was praying that you would say no. When you didn't . . ."

Tears started to fall, and he just couldn't speak.

"I remember you crying," she finally said. "I always thought they were tears of joy."

He shook his head. "No. I'm sorry! It was like everything inside of me died. All my dreams, everything I'd ever hoped to be. It was just gone in a puff of smoke, and I thought it was the biggest mistake of my life."

He reached up and brushed away the moisture from his cheeks. "I knew it was the right thing to do, and I tried to trust that God would bless me, but I felt like I was making this huge, unimaginable sacrifice."

"And that's why you got the crucifix tattoo?" she asked, gently rubbing her hand over the ink on his flesh.

He nodded and sniffled slightly. "Over the years, though, it came to mean something entirely different. By the time Kathleen was born, it didn't represent what I _had_ to give up anymore; it was what I was _willing_ to give up. It took a little while, but I realized that you and the kids, my family, were the greatest blessing I could ever receive. There was nothing, _nothing,_ I wouldn't do for you."

She slid her hand down his arm and intertwined their fingers. "Elliot, I want you to look at me," she said compassionately.

It took him a long minute, but finally he did.

"What was it today, Elliot?" she asked tenderly. "Something you had to do, or something you were willing to do?"

"Both," he whispered. And he looked down to where their fingers were laced together. "I didn't want to do it. I prayed to God to show me another way, but He didn't. There's nothing in this world I would want to hold on to if it meant letting go of you and the kids. So in the end, I willingly did what I had to do."

The tears were back, streaming down his face now, dripping off his chin, coming so quickly he couldn't keep them wiped away, so he gave up trying.

"I know it was the right thing to do, Kath, and I know I'll never regret it, but it hurts, Kathy. Oh, God, it hurts!"

He fell into her, his upper body curled in her lap, his face pressed against her stomach, sobbing hard and trying to keep it quiet so he didn't wake the children. Totally oblivious to the tears streaming down her own face, she draped her arms around him, shushing him, smoothing down his soft dark hair, and rubbing slow, gentle circles on his back. They sat that way until he finally cried himself out.

After a few quiet minutes, Elliot rolled over and positioned himself so he was lying across the bed with his head in her lap. His eyes were closed, but she knew he was still awake because he hadn't reached that state of limp relaxation that came with sleep.

"Elliot?"

"Hmm?"

"I can't say that I understand what you are going through, because I've never really had to sacrifice anything. You and the kids are all I ever really wanted, but I want you to know that . . ."

She began to choke up and had to struggle for her words.

"I am very humbled and . . . deeply moved . . . by what you've done for us."

He opened his eyes. They were bloodshot from crying, but they shone with love. He reached up and wiped her tears away, and she brushed away the last of his.

"Tell me what I can do to help you," she pleaded softly.

He sighed and his gaze shifted off of her as his eyes came unfocused in thought. Slowly, he formulated an answer.

"I guess, all you can do is be patient," he began with a shrug, struggling already to keep his voice even. "Recognize that there is a hole in me that only time can fill and there's a pain that you can't even reach to soothe it."

"If it hurts so much, how could you just walk away from it?"

He smiled up at her and his whole face brightened. "It's not what I was walking _away from_, Kathy, it's what I was walking _to_." He raised his hands in a gesture that encompassed the whole house and everyone and everything in it. "I need _this_ more than I need my next breath."

He scooted off her lap and snuggled under the covers. "Would you lie down here beside me so I can hold onto you tonight?"

She did as he asked, but put her arms around him, too, and said, "Why don't we hold onto each other?"


	6. Friendship

**Chapter Six**  
**Friendship**

**Don't be dismayed at goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. **  
**-Richard Bach**

Olivia peered through the peephole and what she saw made her laugh aloud. Opening the door, she stroked her best friend's furry chin and said, "Oh, my God! What is this?"

"It's a beard," he said, grinning and handing her the popcorn.

"I know that, but why?" she called as she took the Orville Redenbacher's microwave popcorn into the kitchen.

"Ah, just time to try something new," he told her, and grinned evilly to himself as he shoved his hat into his coat pocket and hung the coat on the back of the door. "It's grayer than I thought it would be, and I'm thinking about getting some of that Just for Men dye to darken it. What do you think?"

"Elliot! What the hell?" she shouted and stopped cold as she came out of the kitchen.

He laughed aloud at her expression and smoothed a palm over his shiny bald scalp.

"Well, what _do_ you think?"

"You might have warned me!"

His expression told her he wanted a real response, so she crossed the room and playfully rubbed her hand over his head. "Smoooooth," she said in an exaggerated teasing tone. Then she stepped back and looked him over critically.

He was right about the beard. It was a _lot_ grayer than she would have expected. He had such a youthful face, especially when he smiled, that the gray didn't seem to fit. His eyes picked up the color of the baby blue sweater he was wearing, and without the dark hair framing his face they looked even brighter and more piercing. Hair or no hair, he was still the sexiest thing she had ever seen in pants, but that shiny bald head was so distracting! Maybe she just wasn't used to it yet.

"Some men don't need hair," she finally pronounced, and just as he was starting to feel complimented, she added, "but I'm not so sure about you."

The self-satisfied smile fell from his face. "Gee, thanks a lot," he deadpanned.

"So, what do Kathy and the kids think of it?" she asked.

"Kathy says it's seriously hot, but I can't tell if she really means it. Maureen and Kathleen are like 'Whatever, Dad,' Dickie thinks it's cool, and Elizabeth . . ."

When he trailed off, she just had to ask, "What about Lizzie?"

He shrugged. "She cried."

"Oh, no," Olivia said with a sympathetic laugh, "poor kid."

"She hates it so much she's been leaving these ads for hair replacement therapies laying around the house for me to find," he said. "There's even one online that she keeps setting as the homepage on my computer. I'll probably let it grow back in a few weeks to appease her, but I've already told her I'm ready to embrace the change and I won't be spending any money on putting it back once it falls out naturally."

Olivia nodded. "Sounds like a fair compromise, but if you start getting that kewpie doll look with the little tuft in the middle of a ring of skin surrounded by a fringe of hair, _shave the tuft_."

Nodding, he said, "Will do."

The buzzer sounded, and after a brief conversation over the intercom, Olivia let the caller into the building. "That's Fin with the soda. Munch should be here any minute with the movie."

"Aw, man! Why did you let him pick the movie again?"

"It was his turn, Elliot. We have to be fair, but we did tell him it had to be about Halloween. Nothing political, nothing foreign, no documentaries, docudramas, or conspiracy theory crap."

While Liv moved some furniture around so that everyone could see the TV, Elliot stepped into the kitchen to make some popcorn. When they were together, they still worked like partners, each instinctively covering whatever tasks the other did not.

The door buzzed, and Olivia let Fin into the apartment. After a brief exchange of greetings, he held up the two twelve packs of soda he had brought and said, "I'll just put these in the fridge."

Olivia nodded and waited to see what would happen.

"Elliot? Man, what the hell?"

Olivia bit her tongue to keep from laughing out loud as she listened to the exchange.

"Yeah, I heard that once already tonight," he said. "In case you hadn't noticed, I've been losing it for years. I just thought I'd look into the future and see what it would be like. I might keep the beard and color it. What do you think?"

"I think you should grow back what's left of your hair," Fin said bluntly.

"You hear that, Liv?" Elliot called. "That's two votes for bald, three undecided, including you, and Fin is siding with Elizabeth."

She laughed. "At least he didn't cry!"

Fin came into the living room and helped her move the sofa so they could fit another chair into the circle. As they lifted it, he whispered to her, "You could have warned me!"

Elliot, who was just bringing in the first bowl of popcorn, whispered loudly, "I've already heard that tonight, too."

They'd been having their Monday night get-togethers for the past four months, ever since shortly after Elliot had left the squad. They might watch a movie, play poker, or catch a baseball or football game on TV. Since tonight's Monday night football promised to be a blowout and Halloween was only two days away, they had all agreed on a movie night.

As Liv and Fin set the couch down, Elliot sat on the back of it, swung his feet around to the front, slid down onto the seat, kicked off his shoes, and put his feet up on the coffee table. Ignoring his friends' exasperated looks, he took a handful of popcorn and started tossing up kernels and catching them in his mouth while he tried to talk.

"So . . . if Munch . . . has the movie . . ."

Olivia reached out and snatched a piece of popcorn in midair. "Talk or eat," she said. "You can't do both."

He grinned up at her and finished his question. "Is Cragen coming?"

He tossed up another piece of popcorn and caught it. Liv flopped down beside him on the couch, took some popcorn for herself and started tossing and catching, too.

"Yeah, but he said to start without him," Fin answered. "He had a meeting after work."

"Oh, about what?" Elliot asked.

Liv and Fin shared a look, then Olivia said, "I'm not sure, but I think it's AA. It was . . . a rough weekend, but things have settled down today."

"Oh, ok." The one unspoken rule about Monday nights was that they didn't talk about police work. It wasn't in deference to Elliot because he couldn't care less what they discussed. He wasn't likely to ever forget what he saw when he was with the SVU, and though he didn't particularly want to be reminded of it, it didn't especially bother him either. Work was off limits because the rest of them needed to do something to preserve their sanity. Having one night when they could hang out as friends and not cops had been very therapeutic. It actually helped that Elliot wasn't in the squad anymore because he gave them a much-needed window on a normal life.

Someone buzzed, and with hand signals and a nod, Olivia asked Fin to take care of it.

"What about the new guy, Ketchup Man?" Elliot asked.

"His name is Heinz," Liv said, "Michael Heinz. He's been with the squad five months, and he's no relation to the ketchup family."

"Whatever, he's almost as rich as they are. Is he coming?" He went back to tossing popcorn.

"Yeah, Mike will be here. I wish you would quit calling him Ketchup Man, though."

Elliot grinned. He only did it because it irritated Liv more than it bothered Mike.

"He's on his way up with Munh, now," Fin said.

Michael "Ketch" Heinz had transferred in from Brooklyn South to be Olivia's new partner. Elliot had met him the day he came in to sign the paperwork officially separating him from the SVU, and he had initially hated the young cop. He was a thirty-two-year-old, six-foot-two-inch, blonde Adonis from a wealthy family who made more from the dividends on his trust fund than from his detective's salary. Working as a public servant made him the black sheep of the family, but it hadn't pissed off his 'grandmamma' enough to disown him so he was still able to enjoy the lifestyle of the rich and famous.

When the weather was nice, Mike drove a bright red, classic Jaguar convertible and when it was bad, he drove a Mercedes that retailed for over $180,000. His clothes were usually Versace or Dolce & Gabbana, and his shoes were usually Prada or Ferragamo. He had graduated from the police academy near the top of his class and been decorated several times as a patrol officer. He came into the SVU with the idea that he was going to single-handedly clean up all of the perversion in Manhattan. Needless to say it had taken him a while to make friends.

When Elliot had first dubbed him Ketchup Man, it had been an insult born of some odd paternal feeling that nobody else would ever be good enough to partner with Olivia. Mike had surprised them all and taken it in stride, and the nickname had stuck. Of course, Ketchup Man was a little unwieldy to be calling across the squadroom in the middle of an investigation, so it was soon shortened to Ketch, and he wore it as a badge of honor. He had survived his hazing and was finally accepted as part of the team.

"Is he working out all right?"

"He's still green, but we all were once." She put her hand on Elliot's arm and smiled excitedly when he faced her. "I got to drive the Jag on Saturday."

"Well, good for you," Elliot smirked at her, and she knew he was jealous. "How'd that happen?"

"We went out for drinks, and Ketch had a few too many, so he gave me his keys to drive him home. I was scared to death I might have a fender bender."

The look Elliot gave her said he was concerned.

"Don't worry, El, it's not a habit, and if it becomes one, well, I'm not gonna trust a drunk to watch my back. He's doing ok."

"That's all I have to hear," he said with a nod, trusting that she would talk to him if she needed to.

"Stabler? What the hell!" John exclaimed when Fin opened the door.

Elliot looked at Olivia and said, "I was hoping for something more original from him."

He turned back to face Munch and asked, "So, what do you think, John?"

"I've always thought covering everything from your shoulders up with a paper sack would have been a great improvement," Munch taunted, "but hey, it's your face, do what you want."

"Ouch!" Elliot laughed.

Olivia doubled over in a fit of giggles.

"At least it was original," Fin pointed out.

Elliot nodded. "I guess it's another undecided, too."

"Shave the beard and you'd look like G. Gordon Liddy," Munch said.

"Nah, Liddy has a way cooler moustache," Fin argued.

"Isn't he the old dude from Celebrity Fear Factor last year?" Ketch's voice said from the hall. "Who is he anyway?"

"What is this country coming to?" Munch whined as Ketch sauntered into the apartment behind him. "A key figure in one of this country's worst political scandals is now just 'that old dude' from some freak factory pseudo-reality stunt show."

Fin pointed a finger in Munch's direction and said, "Do _not_ get started, man!"

Ketch folded his long, lean frame into a seat, said, "Cool look, Elliot. Kind reminds me of Goldberg."

"Uh, thanks, I think," Elliot muttered uncertainly.

When the others exchanged a confused look, Ketch said, "Bill Goldberg? The football player turned professional wrestler turned actor, if you can call it acting."

Now, they all nodded, vaguely aware of who he was talking about. It was odd to them that someone of Heinz's background would be into things like professional wrestling and reality TV shows. They had initially wondered if it was his way of trying to fit in with the 'commoners' with whom he worked, but they had eventually realized that he was surprisingly authentic, and didn't hold himself above anyone. So, now it was just another quirk that had become part of his charm.

"So, that makes three for bald, four undecided, and two for growing it back, right?" Olivia asked.

Elliot took a moment to tally the votes on his fingers and nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

"So, Munch, what's the movie?"

He glared at them. "Do you people have any idea how hard it is to find a Halloween flick two days before Halloween?" he complained.

"Well, if we could trust you to pick something fun to watch, we wouldn't have to give you so many restrictions," Olivia said. "What did you find?"

"I had three choices, so I rented them all." He took them out of the bag and said, "I've got _Saw II._"

Everybody made faces at that. They'd all seen enough gore to last them a lifetime.

"I didn't think so. Why'd I waste my money?" The question was rhetorical and nobody answered, so he continued talking. "How about _The Corpse Bride_ or _It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown_?"

"If we start with _The Great Pumpkin_, maybe Cragen will be here by the time we're ready to watch _The Corpse Bride_," Olivia suggested.

Olivia's suggestion made sense, so that's what they did. Just as the movie ended, the captain called to say he'd be another ten minutes, so they killed the time chatting and making more popcorn. Since Elliot was the only one not in the squad room every day, most of the attention focused on him.

"So, what have you been doing with yourself lately?" Munch asked. "Aside from crazy adolescent experiments with your appearance, that is."

Elliot smirked at him and said, "You just wish you had the guts." He scratched his beard and said, "Well, I finished tiling the master bathroom this week, so the redecorating is finally done until Kathy gets bored with the house again. I even learned to reupholster furniture and install new light fixtures."

"It's good that you're learning a trade," Munch quipped.

"And now we don't have to hear any more stories about the surprising amount of crud that accumulates under a carpet or the virtues of Corian versus Formica countertops," Olivia added making a face.

Shortly after returning home, Kathy had decided that she wanted to completely remodel the house. Elliot thought it was appropriately symbolic of the way they were starting over, so he agreed. Since he was no longer employed, he had decided to do most of the work himself, also symbolic of him putting more effort into his relationship with his wife than he had in the several years before she left. His weekly update on the progress of the job had become a running joke at their Monday gatherings.

Elliot rolled his eyes but said nothing. "Now that the kids are back in school, I've been driving the carpool, helping coach the twins' soccer teams, and catching up on my reading."

"If you don't mind my asking, have you started drawing your pension yet?" John asked. "I know retiring from Baltimore was such a pain in the ass that some guys probably kept working just to avoid the hassle."

There was a buzz from downstairs, and Heinz, being closest to the intercom, answered it.

"Captain's here," he interjected quietly a moment later.

Elliot sighed. "This is almost embarrassing, John" he admitted. "I never gave it a thought when I resigned. There were other things that were just so much more important to me at the time. I was thirteen months short of my full pension."

Munch grimaced. "Ouch."

"Yeah, but luckily, Don was thinking about it for me," Elliot explained. "He held my resignation, and called me a couple of days later. I used up my sick days and vacation time, and by then, he'd gotten the Chief of Detectives to approve a voluntary unpaid leave until I figured out what I wanted to do about it."

"And what are you doing about it?" Olivia asked.

"Well, I talked it over with Kathy and the kids, and would you believe they all think I would make a good teacher?"

"Yeah, I would."

He looked at her in surprise.

"You're such a hardass as a dad. I think you'd really scare the hell out of twenty-five sixth graders."

That got a laugh out of everyone, but Elliot just made a face at her. "Actually, I'm talking about the Police Academy. In January I start teaching the Detective Bureau Orientation for Investigators course and Sex Crimes and Child Abuse Investigation."

Munch looked at Fin and said, "You owe me twenty-five bucks. I told you he'd be back in no time."

"Don't pay him, Fin," Elliot said. "I worked four years in Homicide before I went to SVU and that's what I wanted to teach. They ordered me to teach the sex crimes course."

There was a knock at the door, and Heinz let Cragen in.

He greeted everyone, and then looked at his former detective and said, "Elliot? What the hell?"

He didn't understand why that made Olivia and Elliot laugh hysterically, so he just shrugged out of his coat and said, "I hope Munch got a decent movie this time."

"_The Corpse Bride_," Ketch told him, and he went out to the kitchen to get the captain a soda.

Fin looked at Munch and laughed. "Let's call the bet a draw. I won't take your money either."

"What bet?" Don asked.

"They were betting on how long I could stay away from SVU," Elliot said. "I was just telling them, I got the job at the academy, but they're making me do the Sex Crimes course instead of Homicide."

"Yeah? Well, you can't win 'em all," Don said. "You ok with that? 'Cause I can make a call if you're not." He nodded his thanks as Heinz handed him a Diet Coke.

"Nah, it's all good," Elliot replied. "Especially since they're also putting me in charge of designing a safe dating curriculum for sixth- through twelfth-graders that the school safety officers will teach in conjunction with the sex ed. teachers."

"Really?" Olivia asked in surprise. "That's quite a feather in your cap. How did that come about?"

"Well, I had to complete some workshops before I could begin teaching, and one of the facilitators was a woman named Barbara Fletcher who's responsible for developing a lot of the curriculum. They'd been planning for a while to create this course, but they weren't sure who needed to be involved in it. We were talking during one of the breaks, and she started picking my brain."

"And found it mighty slim pickings, I'll bet," Olivia quipped.

"Good one," Munch commented as he stood to take the remote off the coffee table and switched DVDs.

"Hah-hah, right," Elliot stuck his tongue out at her and then continued. "I guess, she figured between the SVU and having four kids between the ages of fourteen and twenty-one, I had a unique perspective on dating and sexual relationships. She wanted to know who I would trust to teach my kids about safety, sex, and dating if they weren't comfortable talking to me. I started naming people, and a week later, Barb asked me to stop by her office. I had no idea what she wanted, and I think I just about lost the job when I got pissed off by the personal questions she was asking."

"What did you do?" Don asked, asked in a tone that implied he was expecting the worst.

Fin got up to get another soda and put the last bag of popcorn in the microwave.

"Have a little faith, Cap," Elliot grinned. "I just told her that I didn't think it was any of her business, and until she could show me how it was, I wasn't going to answer her."

Don wasn't the only one who breathed a sigh of relief.

"She told me it was about the course they were planning, and asked me a few questions about my kids and about that boyfriend of Kathleen's that I ran off last year. So I guess she had done some homework on me. Then she handed me a sheet of paper, and except for my priest, all of the people I had mentioned during the earlier conversation were on it, plus a few names she had added. She asked me if I thought they would work well together as a committee to write the curriculum, and when I said yes, she said, 'Good, because you're chairing it.'"

"No way!" Olivia said in shock.

"Way," Elliot grinned, "and _by _the way, you and Fin are on the committee. Barb should be contacting you this week."

"What about me?" Munch asked in his hurt, whiny voice. "Why did you leave me out?"

"Four wives, John," Elliot said simply. "Sorry, but it didn't seem like you'd be the guy to ask about building a successful relationship."

"Point taken," John said sulkily.

"You know, Elliot," Ketch said, "Olivia once told me you were in the SVU for over thirteen years, but it doesn't seem like you miss it at all. That's a huge chunk of your life to walk away from. Do you ever feel like you might want to come back?"

Elliot looked around taking in the faces of each of his dearest friends, studying them almost as if he wanted to memorize their features. Then he looked at the new guy, who was turning out to be not such a bad guy at all.

"I don't miss the work one bit," he said quietly. "But I miss the unit every day."

Olivia covered his hand with hers where it rested on the sofa cushion between them. Don looked down at his watch. Munch hit the play button and started the DVD. Fin cut the lights, and they all settled back to enjoy the movie in the company of friends.

None of them mentioned that he had never really answered Ketch's question.


	7. Confidant

**Chapter Seven**  
**Confidant**

**We only part to meet again.**  
**-John Gay**

"You know, I really enjoy these movie nights," Olivia said as Elliot helped her clean up the soda cans and popcorn bowls.

"Even though we always take over your apartment and trash it?" he asked.

She looked at him and sighed. "You always stay to help clean up, so it's not such a bad deal. Besides, this is a central location. Can you see all of us trooping out to the Bronx or Brooklyn to hang out at Fin's place or the captain's house?"

"Or crowding into Munch's studio apartment?" Elliot added.

"Of course, you have plenty of room," she told him, sliding her hands into the suds in the sink. She washed and he rinsed. It had become their routine.

"And a wife and four kids," he replied, rolling up his sleeves to keep them dry.

"We had kid-friendly movies tonight."

"But it wasn't a wife-friendly mess," he told her with a laugh.

She took the flippant comment at face value but asked, "How are things going between you and Kathy?"

"Some days it's more of a minefield than a cake walk," he admitted, "but we're doing all right."

Olivia continued washing dishes, leaving the silence for Elliot to fill or ignore, whichever he saw fit.

"It seems like the one thing she wants most is the thing that's hardest for me to give her."

"And what's that?" Olivia asked, knowing he was waiting for the question to see if she really was interested.

"She wants me to talk about my feelings."

Again Olivia was silent, knowing he would continue if he needed to. It took a few moments, but eventually he told her. "It seems like . . . like I just don't have the vocabulary to do that, or maybe I just don't understand what the words mean. Really, what in the hell's the difference between pissed off and angry or furious and enraged? It's like the words I know just never fit."

"So, what do you do when that happens?" Olivia asked.

"Most of the time I tell them what I want to do about what I feel."

"Them?"

"Kathy and our marriage counselor, Father McKay. Like last week, there was this jerk in the stands at Lizzie's soccer game and he was just heckling her brutally because she missed a couple of plays. He made my kid cry."

He set a bowl on the counter with a thump and Olivia winced. "I know that pissed you off, but easy with the dishes, Elliot."

"Oh, sorry."

"No harm, no foul. So what did you do?"

"I complained to the ref, and the ref ejected him. When he refused to go, the security guard removed him. As he was leaving, I told him if he ever did that to another child I would have him banned from the games and he would be arrested for trespassing if he showed up again."

"Sounds like you handled it all right," Olivia observed.

"I thought so, too, and Kathy was there, so she knew what I did, but she brings it up in counseling, and Father McKay wants to know how I _felt_ about it."

"And?"

"Pissed off! Angry! Furious! Enraged!" He threw his hands helplessly in the air and said, "Nothing fits! So, at Father McKay's suggestion, I tell them what I wanted to do."

As she drained the sink and rinsed the suds away, he leaned against the counter and dried the dishes with a towel.

"What did you want to do?"

"I wanted to pull him out of the stands, drag him behind the field house, and stomp his head in with my cleats. Kathy and Father McKay looked at me like I was a cannibal and they had just caught me in the act of eating human flesh."

"Oh, Elliot," Olivia made a face.

He dried the last bowl and set it on the stack and then stood there holding the towel while she dried her hands on it.

"Sorry, but that's just the way they looked at me. It's like they can't distinguish between the impulse and the action," he explained, "but _I'm_ the one with the problem."

She took the towel and stood there gazing into his eyes. The way he chewed his lower lip told her this was really bothering him. "Has either one of them ever seen you really lose your temper?" she asked, twisting the fabric in her hands.

He dropped his gaze, and shook his head. "No." Looking up at her again he asked, "Why?"

"Well, 'stomp his head in with my cleats' is a pretty vivid image, El. They don't see the kind of stuff you do . . . did."

He looked at her in confusion. "What does that have to do with it?"

She lay the towel out on the couter to dry and laced her fingers through his. Leading him to the living room, she sat on the couch and pulled him down beside her.

"How many times have we seen something that we never would have been able to imagine, Elliot?"

He scratched his beard and said, "I don't know about you, but to me, it seemed like every week there was something horrible I'd never dreamed of before."

"So, do you think it's possible that you've just developed a higher tolerance for brutality than Kathy and your priest?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose so."

She gave him a look that said, _there's your problem._

He made that wide-eyed, clueless face that he often used when he couldn't follow her reasoning and asked, "So, what do I do about it?"

"Maybe you need to help them understand where you're coming from," she told him. "Ask them if they have ever felt like punching someone. Almost everyone has at some point."

"And then what? They want to hit someone, and I want to crush his skull. How does that help?"

"Well, what do you think is probably the most horrible thing Kathy has ever seen? In person, I mean."

He shrugged. "A few years ago, she saw a kid get hit by a car when she was picking the twins up from school. That really upset her."

"And how does that compare to the things you have witnessed?"

He sat quietly.

"Pretty tame, I'll bet," she said when he never answered.

He nodded.

"You need to get her to understand that," Olivia said, putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking him gently.

He looked at her, and she saw the pain in his eyes. "I never really told her all that much about my work, just a case every now and then that I couldn't let go." he said. "She knows what's out there, but I didn't ever want to bring it home with me."

She covered his hand with hers, and said, "At the time, you were probably right to keep the job separate from your family, but now . . ."

_Now what, _she wondered. He was waiting patiently for her words, and she was afraid to say them. She didn't want to anger or upset him, but it was a dark secret all of them shared that needed to be brought into the light.

"It has scarred you, Elliot. The job scars all of us; we're all damaged by it," she told him. "It's hard to admit that. It hurts, and that's why none of us ever let anybody get too close. The things you saw and did in the SVU will always be a part of you. You can't run from them, you can't hide, because they're inside of you."

She was beginning to tear up because she realized that what she was saying was true about herself, as well.

"There is a part of you that has been changed forever, Elliot. There's a corner of your soul that will always be dark, and as long as you keep that part of you a secret from your wife, it will always come between you. You have to tell her about the job and how it has affected you all these years. It's the only way she'll be able to understand and accept you for who you are now."

"But what if she _doesn't_ understand, Liv?"

She gave him a smile. "She will, Elliot," she assured him, "because she loves you." She stood up and pulled him to his feet and said, "Come on, help me move the furniture back."

A dining chair went back into the kitchen and a folding one was put in the closet. The other furniture was shifted around a bit, and as they were putting the pillows back on the couch, Olivia asked, "So, have you made love yet?"

It wasn't as forward a question as it might have seemed to an outsider. A few weeks ago, he had confided in her that they'd been back together for three months and while they cuddled a lot, neither of them seemed to feel any sexual desire for the other.

He hesitated but then admitted, "Yeah, a couple of times over the past month or so."

When he left her hanging, she had to ask, "And?"

He grinned. "So you want to be titillated, do you?"

She swatted him with a pillow and said, "No, I want to know how you and Kathy are doing!"

He blushed slightly and ducked his head. "It was good."

She picked up a forgotten soda can from the coffee table. "And the nightmares?"

He sighed. "They come and go, but I've always had them, even before I worked in SVU. At least I'm sleeping."

Olivia held his gaze, and he knew she wasn't going to let him off the hook with a non-answer like that. "She's learned not to ask too many questions. I can't tell her that . . . She and the kids . . ."

He chewed his bottom lip for a moment, then took a deep breath and asked, "Do you remember Humphrey Becker?"

"Yeah, of course."

There was no way Olivia would ever forget the RDK serial killer copycat. A sexually insecure newspaper archivist and frustrated novelist who had been abused and neglected by his mother, Humphrey had sought out his fifteen minutes of fame by reenacting the crimes of a convicted killer and sending the detectives on a wild goose chase through the city with his baffling clues. Time and again, they had arrived too late to save the victim.

Becker was afraid of the dark because he had spent a good deal of his childhood locked in a dark closet while his mother was off watching her movies, and he was so claustrophobic that he had taken all the doors down inside his apartment. When they finally got him into interrogation, he had taunted them with the knowledge that there was one more victim out there slowly suffocating. In a fit of rage, Elliot had dragged him out of the room and down the hall to a storage closet. Throwing all procedure out the window, Olivia had held the door for him while he threw Becker inside, and one of them had busted the single light bulb that illuminated the tiny room. Cragen had produced the key that had kept him confined until he told them where the final victim was. She had been found alive, but just barely.

"My last nightmare was about him," Elliot said, "but instead of his actual victims, we kept finding my kids or Kathy, and it happened over and over again, more times than it did in the real case. I woke her with my tossing and turning, and then she woke me. I couldn't tell her what it was about. How could I tell her I was having flashbacks but the victims all had hers and the kids faces? So, I told her that I had dreamed about a rough case and left it at that."

"Then what?"

"I just rolled over on my stomach, and she rubbed my back, and eventually, we went back to sleep."

"See, Elliot, that's exactly what I meant when I said the job has scarred you," Olivia told him gently. "You have to tell her just a little bit about it so she knows why it haunts you the way it does. Maybe you should find a quiet time when the kids aren't around and tell her about that dream. Or share it with her and your priest next time you go to counseling."

Olivia usually gave him good advice, but it wasn't always easy to follow, so instead of committing to the idea, he nodded slightly and said, "I'll consider it."

She gave him a sympathetic smile and found a forgotten glass on the end table hidden behind a large candle. He picked up a couple of pieces of popcorn that had been dropped on the floor, took the soda can and the bowl off her hands and went into the kitchen to put them where they belonged.

"We're gonna be all right, Liv," he called as he walked away from her. Coming back into the room, he added, "It's taking some time because we hurt each other in so many ways, but we're working things out."

She crossed the room to him, gave him a sweet smile, and a kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad."

He slipped on his coat and hat, and she walked him down to the main entrance to her building.

"You know, I think we've seen each other socially more often in the five months since you quit than we ever did when we were working together," she told him as they stood looking out the glass door at the autumn leaves playing tag in the street.

He nodded. "You're right, and we talk more than we did then, too."

He looked into her chocolate brown eyes for a long moment.

"What?" she asked with a confused little smile.

He shrugged and shook his head. "I don't know, just, thanks, I guess."

They stepped out onto the stoop together, Olivia shivering in the autumn chill. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and said, "See you next Monday."

She watched as he crossed the street and sprinted through the falling leaves to his car. He waved to her before he climbed in. She waved back and called, "Goodbye!"

After he drove off, she headed back upstairs chuckling to herself. He had forgotten that Kathy had invited her to their Halloween party. She was going as a gypsy fortune teller, though she hadn't mentioned it to him. She wondered what he would say about her costume. It was a little sexy, but tame enough that it was appropriate to wear around his kids.

She laughed aloud. He'd only just left her, and already she was excited about seeing her best friend again. That was the good thing about saying goodbye.

**The End

* * *

Author's Note:**

Hope you enjoyed it. Rumor has it Christopher Meloni isn't going to renew his contract when it runs out this season. This is sort of how I would like to see Elliot go out. I would love to know what the rest of you think. -Jo 


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